


a memory no one can steal

by sarcasm_and_sabres



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Terminal Illnesses, trade angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 01:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16822294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasm_and_sabres/pseuds/sarcasm_and_sabres
Summary: God, Kris had been so happy and stupid in that moment. His second season in the majors and he’d won a ring and ended the longest drought in sports and he’d leapt into his best friend’s arms and had been so happy.And now here he is, twenty-seven years old, alone in San Diego and dying.





	a memory no one can steal

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Richard Puz, taken from an Irish tombstone.
> 
> Warnings for mentions of cancer and terminal illness and major character deaths. This is not exactly a happy fic. At all.
> 
> (Also, Cubs, please don't trade Kris Bryant. I really like his baseball and I'd like to keep it.)

Cubs Superstar Kris Bryant Traded to Padres

By Mark Gonzales

In a blockbuster trade, Kris Bryant was traded today to the Padres for IF/OF Wil Myers, LHP José Castillo, and top prospect Fernando Tatís Jr.

In his four seasons for the Cubs, Bryant produced a slash line of .285/.385/.515, winning NL Rookie of the Year in 2015 and NL MVP in 2016. He helped the Cubs to four consecutive playoff seasons and was a large part of the Cubs’ championship team in 2016. Although he had a down season in 2018, producing his lowest numbers since 2015 and missing sixty games, Bryant still brought a large return for the Cubs.

Myers batted .253/.318/.446 with 11 home runs in 2018, but only played in 83 games for the Padres. In 2016 and 2017, he hit 28 and 30 homers, respectively, and the Cubs are likely hoping Myers will bring some of the offensive pop missing from the Cubs the latter half of 2018.

Castillo has played only 38.1 innings in the majors, all of them in 2018, producing a 3.29 ERA. In 10 games for AAA El Paso in 2018, he threw 11.1 innings and had a .79 ERA, only giving up one home run and walking one in that span. Castillo should provide bullpen support for the Cubs this season and beyond and brings an additional left-handed reliever into play for the team.

Tatís Jr is a shortstop and went into the 2018 season ranked as baseball’s #8 overall prospect by Baseball America and Baseball Prospectus. In 88 games for the Padres’ AA team, he hit 16 home runs and walked 33 times, but also struck out 109 times. He missed the later part of the season with a thumb injury but played in the Dominican Winter League, producing more impressive numbers. Tatís is only 19 years old and has plus defensive ability and good range at shortstop.

The Cubs earlier this offseason expressed a desire to add pieces without spending too much money, and they look to have done that with this trade, at least in part. Although losing Bryant is a blow to the team, Myers’ and Tatís’ bats may bring offensive production for the Cubs in seasons to come.

\---

Kris coughs weakly, unable to muster up enough energy to fully clear his airway. He’s so tired. His gaze flickers over the room around him, landing on the framed picture on him and Rizzo in the moment after they’d won the World Series. For a moment, lost in memory of that moment, he manages a deep breath and a smile. God, he’d been so happy and stupid in that moment. His second season in the majors and he’d won a ring and ended the longest drought in sports and he’d leapt into his best friend’s arms and had been so happy.

And now here he is, twenty-seven years old, alone in San Diego and dying. 

Kris coughs again, gaze torn away from the picture to the bloody petals he’s coughed up. He should’ve gotten surgery to have this damned plant removed from his chest, but he supposes hindsight is 20/20. He’d thought… 

But Rizzo had had his chance. Kris had given him the letter months ago, and though Rizzo has been good about keeping in touch this season, he’s never mentioned the letter or what Kris had said in it. At least Rizzo won’t be the one who finds his body. It won’t be long now, Kris knows. Breathing is even more of a struggle than it’s been through this season and his meds are doing nothing now.

He wishes he had just a little bit more time, though. Just another couple of weeks so he could play at the All-Star Game and when the Padres travel to Chicago. He misses the Cubs. He misses Rizzo. He misses being able to breathe and not coughing up bloody petals and not dying. He misses Rizzo’s bear hugs without warning and how they could always make Kris feel better.

When he stands up to get ready for bed, Kris’s vision swims and he has to grab onto the couch to keep from falling over. Damn his restricted airways and his limited oxygen supply. Damn the plant growing in his chest and slowly killing him.

Kris doesn’t bother changing into pajamas, just brushes his teeth and falls into bed. He’d spent all day in sweats anyways, so there’s no point. Not when he’ll end up spending tomorrow just sitting on his couch alone again.

Or maybe not, Kris thinks when there’s a sharp stabbing pain in his chest. His doctor had told him that what would eventually kill him would be a heart attack, not asphyxiation. Twenty-seven years old and dying of a heart attack. Kris would laugh if he could breathe, but as it is he just stares at the baseball sitting on his bedside table, a memento from his time with the Cubs, until his vision goes dark.

\---

_Padres’ Kris Bryant found dead in San Diego apartment,_ the scroll reads, and Anthony hastens to unmute the TV.

Schwarbs protests when the news anchor’s voice cuts him off, but a swift look from Rizzo halts his protest. The rest of the team goes quiet at the exchange, and Rizzo listens, tuning his teammates out so he can hear the broadcast.

_—was traded from the Cubs in a blockbuster trade just before Spring Training this year, but only played for the Padres for two months before being placed on the disabled list with breathing problems. The team never presented a timetable for his return, and now the Padres have released a statement that the twenty-seven-year-old was found dead in his apartment by a teammate this morning._

_There is no official word yet on Bryant’s cause of death, but unofficial reports say it was a heart attack. However, speculation is running rampant right now, and there is no confirmation as to what could cause the unexpected death of a mostly healthy twenty-seven-year-old._

_The Padres organization or any of Bryant’s teammates have not said anything beyond the initial statement. Bryant’s—_

__Heyward stands up suddenly and shuts off the television, sending the room into shocked silence. Jon chooses that moment to walk into the room, frowning around at all of them._ _

__“Why y’all sitting here like someone just died?” he asks. There’s a choking noise from the other side of the room, and Rizzo slowly moves his head to look at Q, who’s dropped his head into his hands._ _

__“Kris is dead,” Rizzo says hollowly, turning back to look at Jon. The pitcher opens his mouth to say something but closes it again a moment later, a look of horror replacing his confused expression. Seeing the grief written so plainly on his teammate’s face is what finally hammers the news anchor’s words home, and Rizzo folds in on himself with a choked sob as he starts to cry._ _

__“C’mere,” he hears, and a moment later he’s wrapped up in Jon’s familiar embrace. He lets Jon hold him as he cries, even as he feels the pitcher’s body shaking and hears sounds of shock, grief, horror, from the rest of the room._ _

__And even as Anthony cries for the death of his best friend, he can feel the ever-present ache in his own chest and knows that Kris’s death is a death sentence for him, too._ _

__

__\---_ _

__

__“Hey,” Kris says, quietly, and he seems uncomfortable in Anthony’s apartment. It’s dumb, considering how much time they’ve spent together there while in Mesa, but Anthony supposes that everything is different now. Kris is no longer his teammate. And while Anthony knows that trades are just part of the business, he’d never anticipated Kris getting traded away. After all, who trades away their best player?_ _

__“It’s really good to see you,” Anthony says, pulling Kris into a hug. “I don’t care who you play for, you’re still my best friend.”_ _

__“Thanks, man,” Kris says. He looks a little more relaxed now, so Anthony gestures him further into the apartment._ _

__“Want something to drink?” Anthony asks, rummaging through his fridge for a beer for himself. Kris lifts up his water bottle in answer, so Anthony heads for the living room. “So when do you head to Peoria?”_ _

__“I’m driving over there after I leave tonight,” Kris says. He doesn’t look particularly happy when he says that, and Anthony puts a hand on his arm in an attempt at comfort. Fuck, he’s really gonna miss having this all through the season. Yeah, sure, he supposes the trade made sense in baseball terms, but that doesn’t mean it’s not gonna suck like hell to not have Kris with him._ _

__“So I guess I’d better make your last night of offseason pretty good, huh?” Anthony teases. He doesn’t mean anything, never plans on saying anything about the feelings he’s had for Kris for years now, but the small smile immediately drops off Kris’s face._ _

__“Yeah, I guess.” Kris’s tone drips of forced cheerfulness, but even though Anthony can’t tell why, he knows his friend well enough to know that he doesn’t want to talk about it._ _

__“Wanna watch something? Or play something? I can start the process of kicking your ass in MLB The Show before I do it in real life.”_ _

__“Wow, rude,” Kris says, elbowing Anthony gently. But the real smile’s back on his face now, so Anthony’s gonna count that as a win. “Why don’t I kick your ass, get a taste of the season to come?”_ _

__“You come into my house…” Anthony mutters, reaching for the controllers._ _

__It’s all too easy to fall back into their normal rhythms, gentle teasing flowing between them as they play. Anthony, however, is far too aware of the undercurrent of melancholy he at least feels, because they’ll have so few opportunities to do this during the season. They’ll play each other half a dozen times, not nearly enough time. He misses his best friend and Kris hasn’t even really left yet._ _

__“It’s gonna be weird this season,” Kris says eventually. Anthony glances over at him, but Kris’s gaze is firmly fixed on the television._ _

__“You’ll be fine,” Anthony replies. He might not be, but he knows without a doubt that Kris will be able to thrive on his new team. “You’re nice, good at baseball, and if you need anything, you can just bat those pretty eyelashes… What’s there to be worried about?”_ _

__“Jerk,” Kris mutters, bumping his shoulder into Anthony’s. “Maybe I won’t miss you after all.”_ _

__“Don’t you wish you’d been traded to the Reds, then you could play with your favorite first baseman Joey Votto?”_ _

__“Very funny. Hosmer actually was the first Padre to reach out to me after I was traded, so clearly now I’ve got the best first baseman in the game,” Kris says. He’s clearly teasing, but Anthony still hates it. He wants his third baseman._ _

__Kris calls it a night around 11, citing that he still has to drive an hour to his hotel in Peoria and be up early for spring training the next morning. Anthony hugs him way too long before he leaves, trying to imprint the embrace in his memory to last him through the season when he can’t do this anymore._ _

__“Hey, I have something for you,” Kris says when Anthony finally lets go of him. He passes over an envelope, slightly crumpled from being in Kris’s pocket for the last few hours. “Don’t…don’t read it right away, okay? Wait until…at least until the season starts.”_ _

__“Okay,” Anthony says, taking the envelope and putting it on the side table next to him. It’s a weird request, for sure, but he trusts Kris, and even though he’s burning with curiosity, he’ll wait. “Drive safe, okay? Text me when you get there.”_ _

__“I will.” Kris comes in for another hug, squeezing Anthony as tightly as Anthony had been hugging him earlier. “And hey, have a good season, yeah?”_ _

__“You too. Show San Diego that they got the better end of the trade.” Maybe it’s not what Anthony should be saying, considering his team was the other end of the trade, but Kris is his friend. He wants his best friend to be successful and to show the world why he shouldn’t have been traded in the first place._ _

__“And I’ll see you in July. Both for the All-Star Game and the series when I’m in Chicago, okay?”_ _

__“Cleveland in July. It’s a date.”_ _

__Anthony claps Kris on the shoulder one last time before letting his former teammate leave his apartment. Looking back on it, he’ll wish that he’d never let Kris go._ _

__

__\---_ _

__

__“I don’t know if I can do this, Jon,” Anthony says miserably. Jon had gotten him out of the locker room as soon as Anthony had regained the ability to breathe enough to walk to one of the smaller video rooms._ _

__“It’ll be okay,” Jon says, running a hand up and down Anthony’s back. The touch is comforting, but it’s also a reminder that Anthony will never be able to do this with Kris again. “I know it’ll be hard, but you’ll get through it.”_ _

__“He—he deserved better,” Anthony says, tears starting to flow again. “He didn’t deserve this.”_ _

__“No, he didn’t. But you and I both know that good people get dealt shitty hands all too often. At least we had as long as he did with him.”_ _

__“He wouldn’t tell me why he was on the DL,” Anthony whispers. “Breathing issues… I was worried about him. But he wouldn’t say anything. What if he knew he was dying?”_ _

__“I don’t know,” Jon says. “He’s probably the only one who knows why and if he knew. But I like to think Kris wouldn’t do that to us.”_ _

__Anthony swallows hard, dropping Jon’s gaze. He can’t keep lying to Jon._ _

__“Jon…I need to tell you something.”_ _

__“Yeah?” Jon asks. Anthony can’t look at him, but he knows there’s something wary in Jon’s voice._ _

__“I’m…I’m sick,” Anthony says, voice breaking on the last word._ _

__Jon sucks in a sharp breath, grabbing Anthony’s arm. “Sick like how?” he asks. When Anthony doesn’t respond quickly, Jon shifts so Anthony can’t avoid looking at him. “Sick like how? Don’t tell me you’re—”_ _

__Jon cuts himself off, but Anthony knows what he was going to say anyways._ _

__“Dying? Yeah. There’s a mass in my chest and they can’t do anything to get rid of it. I’ll probably be dead by the end of the season.”_ _

__“No,” Jon says after a long pause. “No. No, you can’t be. You already—you already beat cancer. You shouldn’t—not again.”_ _

__“I’m sorry,” Anthony offers, and this time it’s him pulling Jon in for a hug, trying to offer what measly comfort he can._ _

__“First Kris, now you.” Jon breathes out deeply, clearly trying to keep himself together. “Fuck. Fuck this, man.”_ _

__“It really fucking sucks,” Anthony agrees, and his chest twinges in pain at the words. He might be dying, but he’s got some of the best friends he could ask for, and hopefully… Maybe he’ll see Kris again._ _

__Jon pulls back and clears his throat a few times, not so surreptitiously wiping at his eyes. “Who—who else knows?”_ _

__“Medical staff, my parents, my brother. Theo. You, now.” Technically, his parents don’t know that the diagnosis is terminal, just that he’s sick. He’d thought he would have more time. He’d thought he would see Kris at the All-Star Game and the Padres series right afterwards, and that he’d have a shot at living. Now, though, he’s doomed to spend the rest of his short life hacking up flower petals until he can no longer breathe._ _

__“You gonna tell the rest of the team?” Jon asks. There’s no judgment in his voice, and Anthony knows Jon’ll support him no matter what he decides._ _

__“Yeah. Not yet, though. Maybe next month, it depends on how quickly it gets bad. If I’m really lucky, I’ll be able to play through the end of the season, but we’ll see.”_ _

__He’s on medication to slow the flower’s growth, and it’s been working so far. He’s barely been coughing in the month since he started it, but it’s only a temporary measure. The doctors had warned him that it would only prolong his life, not save it, and that the only two cures were requited love and surgery. He would’ve taken the risk on the surgery, given up his feelings for Kris if it meant living, but apparently the flower had already grown too far into his heart and lungs by the time he noticed the symptoms._ _

__Although maybe… He doesn’t know what happens to a hanahaki flower if the object of its affections dies. Maybe the flower will wither away, too, and leave Anthony to live the rest of his life in peace, just without Kris. Or maybe it’ll only grow faster, killing him before he has time to do anything left that he wants to._ _

__“Come on,” Jon says abruptly, getting to his feet and offering Anthony a hand up. Anthony takes it without hesitation but frowns at Jon._ _

__“Where are we going?”_ _

__“We’re taking the day and having fun.” Jon’s tone leaves no room for argument, and Anthony finds that he doesn’t mind anyways. Today’s game had been early, leaving the afternoon free, and Anthony barely remembers the game as is. That had been a lifetime ago, not an hour. Kris had, at least as far as he’d known, been alive. There had still been hope for him and for them._ _

__Anthony follows Jon to his car, going on autopilot and sliding into the passenger seat without a word of protest when Jon gestures for him to do so. He’s not sure he trusts himself to drive now anyways._ _

__Tomorrow there will be reporters, questions asked and answered, grief to manage with the team and hide in front of the public, and doubtless plans for some sort of tribute to Kris. The Cubs had better do some sort of tribute. They may have traded Kris away like he wasn’t one of the best damn players to ever wear the uniform, but they’d better honor his life and the years he played with them, the ring he helped win for them. Anthony likes to think that Theo’s already on it. He hopes so, at least._ _

__Jon drives straight north, to one of the private beaches on the North Side. It’s not the nicest day out, so the beach isn’t crowded, and they’re able to pay and pick a spot on the edge of the beach without being bothered. Well, Jon pays and picks a spot. Anthony just follows obediently, trying not to get lost in the space between what the world is now and what he’d thought it was. The space shaped a hell of a lot like Kris Bryant._ _

__Jon knocks their shoulders together when they’re sitting, looking out over the seemingly endless water. And Anthony grew up with the ocean, not great lakes, but there’s something comforting about Lake Michigan. It’s been there far longer than he has and it’ll outlive him by centuries. Long after the city of Chicago has forgotten him and Kris, it’ll still look out over the lake._ _

__

__\---_ _

__

__Anthony had remembered the All-Star Game as something fun. Granted, he hadn’t been for the past two seasons, but as soon as he steps onto the field in Cleveland for the festivities he wants to leave._ _

__Javy puts a hand on his back and the gentle pressure is what keeps Anthony moving despite feeling like he’s going to choke just breathing._ _

__“Reminds you of him, doesn’t it?” Javy asks quietly. Anthony just nods, not trusting himself to speak without crying._ _

__They’d been warned ahead of time, so it’s not a surprise when the announcer says, “We would like to dedicate this game to a member of our MLB family, tragically lost too soon earlier this month. And now, please take a moment of silence for tonight’s would-be starting third baseman, Padres #17 Kris Bryant.”_ _

__Anthony keeps his gaze firmly fixed on the third base bag, studiously ignoring the clips and photos of Kris playing across the screen above them. This is the third tribute ceremony for Kris he’s been through, and it only seems to get harder each time._ _

__It’s only Javy’s tight grip on his arm that keeps Anthony from breaking down in the dead silent stadium. He’s heard silences before—the silence after somebody’s obviously injured, the collective gasp that the whole crowd seems to have when someone gets hit by a pitch, and the moment of stunned disbelief when a decisive blow against the home team is struck._ _

__This silence cuts. If not for Anthony’s stupidity, the stadium would be cheering for Kris now. He’d still be a Padre and it’d still be wrong, but Kris would at least be alive._ _

__“Please remain standing and remove your caps as we honor our country with our national anthem,” the announcer says, and Anthony has to cling to his cap to keep himself grounded._ _

__Anthony’s quiet through the anthem and as the colors are walked off the field, but as soon as that portion is concluded Javy turns to him and gives him a bear hug, and Anthony loses it. He can’t hold the tears back any longer as he cries into his teammate’s shoulder for too long, even as he can hear the players around them also exchanging hugs and handshakes._ _

__Nolan Arenado’s standing nearby, waiting awkwardly when Anthony finally disentangles himself from Javy’s grip and wipes his eyes._ _

__“Hey man,” Nolan says, reaching out for a handshake. “I’m really sorry for your loss. He should’ve been the one starting out there tonight, not me. He was a great guy and a great player.”_ _

__“Thanks,” Anthony says. He wants to say more, but his throat is too tight. Arenado’s expression softens, and he pats Anthony on the arm once and heads away._ _

__“Come on. We can do this.” Javy looks like there’s nothing he’d rather do less than take the field, but he’s still focusing on helping Anthony. Anthony really fucking loves his teammates._ _

__

__\---_ _

__

__Anthony walks into the clubhouse and stops dead. He’d known the Cubs were going to do a tribute to Kris. He’d figured it would include something like this._ _

__It’s still a stark reminder of what they’ve lost, seeing the Bryant jerseys hanging in every locker._ _

__“Aw, Rizz,” he hears from behind him, and Jon squeezes his shoulder. “It’s gonna be a rough day.”_ _

__“Yeah,” Anthony says, finally managing to get his legs to move him into the room. The locker next to his has been empty all season, since Kris was traded, but now there’s a jersey hanging in it again, and some filmy black cloth hanging over the locker underneath it._ _

__Anthony swallows hard and tries to ignore the feeling that Kris should be sitting in front of that locker. In an attempt to not cry, he pulls out the Bryzzo bat from Players’ Weekend last season and presses the barrel to his chest for a moment. He raps his knuckles twice against the half heart on the bat and pulls the cloth over Kris’s locker aside so he can place the bat inside. Half his heart with Kris, like it’s always been._ _

__Which…was maybe not his best plan of doing something to keep himself from crying, because tears are streaming down his face now and he still needs to get ready for the game. Oh, and change his walkup music._ _

__“Guys,” Anthony hears Jason say, and when he turns he’s surprised to see that just about everyone’s already in the clubhouse. It’d been so quiet that he’d assumed there were only a couple of others there, but most people must’ve come in while he was lost in his own head._ _

__“Today’s gonna be tough,” Jason continues, turning his somber gaze around at all of them. “Tomorrow’s probably gonna suck too, and the days after that. It really fucking sucks that Kris is gone. And we’re all gonna miss him, but what we gotta remember is that we’re all here for each other. Reach out to each other. None of us are having rough times alone. Kris wouldn’t want us to deal with this alone, and we’re not gonna. We’re gonna be here for each other and support each other through this.”_ _

__

__\---_ _

__

__Over the next couple of weeks, other mementos start materializing in Kris’s locker. There are a lot of pictures of Kris with various teammates, smiling and happy or laughing and joking. There’s a few baseballs, too, and what Anthony’s pretty sure is one of Matt Szczur’s paintings._ _

__Nobody cleans out the locker as the season goes on, and Anthony appreciates it being left there. He raps his knuckles against the locker, Kris’s locker, every day when he gets into the park and lets himself have a moment to look at all the reminders of his best friend. They’re reminders of what he’s lost, yes, but the more removed from Kris’s death they get, the more they’re reminders of what he had. What they all had. No matter how brief it was, they at least got to have Kris improving their lives for some time._ _

__

__\---_ _

__

__“Today, the Cubs would like to honor the life of Kris Bryant, who tragically passed yesterday morning. Though a San Diego Padre, he remains a part of the Cubs family forever. If you would please take a moment of silence to reflect on Kris and what his life meant to all of us.”_ _

__The whole team is spread out on the sideline, with Anthony standing even with the third base bag. Jon’s got an arm around him while they both watch the slideshow of Kris playing across the video boards. There are so many video clips of Kris and Anthony hugging, and Anthony’s in tears by the third one. All he wants is to be able to give Kris a hug now._ _

__Willson’s openly sobbing further down, shoulders shaking and tears streaming down his face while Hendricks squeezes his arm._ _

__They move from the moment of silence into a somber rendition of Take Me Out to The Ballgame, with even more pictures of Kris playing through it. Jon takes off his cap and presses it to his face, shaking slightly against Anthony. If there’s a dry eye on the team by the end of the national anthem, Anthony would be surprised._ _

__When the anthem is over, Jon turns to pull Anthony into a hug, both of them crying, and the Braves come over from their side of the field to offer handshakes and hugs down the line as well. The Braves go back to their dugout pretty quickly, though, leaving just the team gathered around the third base bag._ _

__“Bring it in,” Jason says huskily, grabbing Javy with one arm and prompting a group hug with the entire team. Surrounded by the warmth of his teammates all around, Anthony can’t help but feel empty inside, like none of it even matters without Kris._ _

__Javy’s starting at third for the day, and when they break from their hug he kneels in the dirt and traces the letters KB into the dirt. Before he can think through whether or not it’s a good idea, Anthony follows suit and draws a heart next to the bag._ _

__When he straightens up, the tears are back in full force. Willson grabs him before he can take another step, burying a tear-stained face in Anthony’s shoulder._ _

__“We can get through this,” Willy says thickly, guiding Anthony back to the dugout. He doesn’t have nearly enough time to get himself back together before the game starts, and he spends most of the top half of the inning trying and failing to keep his head in the game. He doesn’t know how Kyle keeps it together enough to get three batters out._ _

__Anthony hadn’t really registered the lineup when it’d been sent out that morning, so when Jon gently presses his bat and helmet into his hands, he frowns at them in confusion for a good several seconds before realizing that he has to go up and bat._ _

__He braces himself as soon as the announcer finishes his name, but the opening notes of Kris’s walkup music still hit him like a punch to the chest. He can hear the stunned silence of the crowd as the music registers, and he just puts one foot in front of the other until he reaches the batter’s box and the music blissfully stops._ _

__He lifts his bat and starts to settle into his stance, blinking hard to try to keep his vision clear of tears. He’s fighting a losing battle when he hears the umpire clear his throat, and he says, “Take a moment, son. It’s okay.”_ _

__Anthony gives him a grateful smile and steps out again, slipping off a batting glove so he can properly wipe his eyes. He can do this. He can. For Kris._ _

__The first pitch leaves the pitcher’s hand, and a split second later it’s sailing back out to left field, past left field, onto Waveland. Anthony can barely see the path ahead of him for the tears blurring his vision, and he’s pretty sure it’s the slowest home run trot he’s ever made._ _

__He pauses on the third base bag, looking down at Kris’s initials etched in the dirt and pressing a fist to his heart._ _

__Tears are blurring his vision when he reaches home plate, and he’s engulfed by his teammates a moment later. He sobs into their support, and lets somebody draw him into the tunnel and out of sight so he can cry in private._ _

__

__\---_ _

__

__The coughing’s been getting worse by the day, and Anthony knows he doesn’t have much longer to be able to play. He aims to make the most of the last bit of his time on the field, as it’ll be the last thing he’s able to do. He’ll leave behind a legacy that most of the world will only remember as being the man who beat cancer only to die twelve years later when he got sick again. Maybe the city will remember him for 2016, for bringing the Cubs back from their legacy of shame, but Anthony feels like all he deserves is a legacy of shame. It’s his fault, after all. His fault Kris is dead, his fault he’s dying._ _

__The shortness of breath hasn’t yet impacted his playing, and Anthony’s been keeping up his All-Star numbers from the first half. The team has really rallied together since Kris’s death, too, and even though Anthony hasn’t yet told the rest of them that he’s dying he hopes his death will bring them still closer._ _

__He’ll tell them soon. Well, everything left in his life is soon, he supposes. He’ll tell them about a week before he’s done playing, so they can have some time to make their peace with it, both on and off the field. Maybe it’s a good thing they traded Kris for who they did, because Ben and Myers can split time at first, with Bote filling in when need be. The team will be fine. They’ll get through this._ _

__He thinks they’ll have a real shot at winning the World Series this year, whether or not he’ll be around to see it. He hopes so. After all he’s put this group through, they deserve a championship._ _

__

__\---_ _

__

__All Anthony wants to do is collapse into bed and sleep for a month when Jon drops him off at home. He’s honestly a little surprised that Jon had left him alone for the night, but at the same time he’s grateful to get a little time to himself to process the newness of Kris’s death._ _

__Anthony’s about to climb into bed when he spots something tucked into a book on his nightstand and he’s hit with a sudden memory. He’d been reading that book at spring training, when Kris had come to visit him. The last time he’d seen Kris in person._ _

__And oh, fuck, Kris had given him a letter then. That he was supposed to have opened at the beginning of the season, that he’d never done._ _

__Pulling the envelope out of where it’s tucked into the book cover, Anthony climbs into bed to read it._ _

_Dear Anthony,_

_I know I’m not really supposed to say this, but I was really upset to be traded. I don’t want to leave the Cubs. I love the Cubs. I love Chicago. I’m gonna miss the team and the city and my teammates. Especially you._

_And I’m sure you’re thinking it’s normal that I’d miss you, since you’re my best friend, but it’s more than that. I’m in love with you. I think I’ve been falling in love with you since the moment you caught my throw in Cleveland in November and we leapt into each other’s arms._

_I would’ve been content just loving you and being your best friend, but I don’t really have a choice now. My love for you is starting to kill me. I’ve got hanahaki. The doctors say its growth is almost too far for surgery to be effective, so this is my only chance._

_I understand if you don’t return my feelings, but I really hope you do. If you do, please call me and tell me. It might be hard with the distance, but I love you, and if by any chance you love me too, we can make it work._

_If you don’t, please don’t say anything. I don’t think I could bear it to hear you reject me. If you say nothing, I’ll take that as your answer. But if you don’t, I hope we can still be friends. I want to keep your friendship for the little time I’ll have left._

_With love and friendship,_  
_Kris_

________Anthony lets the letter drop from his numb fingers onto the bedspread, staring at his wall. No. No, this can’t be… Kris can’t have written this months ago. He can’t have…_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________This is entirely his fault. He’s responsible for Kris’s death. If he’d just read this earlier, he could’ve called Kris right away and they could be dating and happy and alive right now. They could be making plans for meeting up at the All-Star Game and planning out their futures together. Instead, Anthony’s resigning himself to crying through a tribute to Kris tomorrow and to his own death in a few months. He could’ve prevented all of this._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________And God, the thought of Kris, dying alone, choking on flower petals, and thinking that Anthony didn’t love him. It’s almost more than Anthony can bear, and the emotion sends him into a coughing fit, bringing up several flower petals with the coughs that shake his entire body._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The locker room goes dead when Jon walks in, and he looks up from the ground to see the whole team staring at him. He knows he must look like hell, but nobody seems willing to break the silence and ask._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Jason finally steps up, even though it looks like there’s nothing he’d rather do less. “Is…Is he…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Yeah,” Jon says, sitting down hard in his chair. He feels drained, empty. “Late last night.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Were you there?” Ben asks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Jon nods. “David and I both were.” He’ll never forget watching Anthony struggle for those last breaths, but hard as it had been, there’s nowhere else he would’ve been. “He said he loves you all.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The room’s quiet again, and Jon stares over at Rizzo’s empty locker. This is where Anthony would’ve stepped in, said something to cheer them up, and it’s a brutal blow to remember that he’ll never be able to do that again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________A quiet knock outside precedes Theo’s entrance. He looks beyond wrecked, with red eyes and dark bags under them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I take it you all heard already,” he says, and Jon winces at how rough his voice sounds. “The game…game’s been canceled. We’ll have a memorial for him tomorrow. And please remember that the whole organization is here to support you all. We can all get through this together.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Thanks.” Jason, again, is the only person who speaks, and Theo nods and starts to leave. He clears his throat, turning back and hovering in the doorway for a moment._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I can't promise that I'll be able to offer any comfort right now, but my office door is always open if any of you want to talk."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________They have a free day off now, but nobody moves to leave. Jon should go home to his family. He should kiss his wife and hug his children and tell them what happened. He should remind himself that the world didn’t end with the death of one man. As much as it feels like it right now, Anthony wasn’t the center of the world._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________But Jon makes no move to stand and leave, and none of the rest of the team does either. Nobody’s talking, nobody’s on their phone, and the attitude in the room is so dead Jon would think it was empty. The only sound is the quiet sobs of some, but others seem too shell-shocked to cry._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Jon wishes he had some way to comfort them. Willy’s sobbing into Kyle’s shoulder like he’ll never be happy again, while Kyle pats his shoulder and stares at the floor in front of them with dry eyes that nonetheless hold as much sorrow as Willy’s heaving sobs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I think I’m getting too old for this,” Ben murmurs next to Jon. Jon just nods in agreement, feeling the ache of every one of his years in his bones. Years than neither Kris nor Anthony will ever get to see._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Rossy shows up two days after Kris’s death, letting himself into Anthony’s apartment with the spare key Anthony hadn’t known he still had._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“You goddamned moron,” he says as he crushes Anthony in a hug, but there’s no heat behind his words, just affection and sorrow._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Jon told you?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Jon told me,” Rossy confirms._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I’m sorry,” Anthony offers, because he feels like Rossy’s waiting for him to say something. The catcher just hugs him tighter and shakes his head._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“You got nothing to apologize for. You got dealt a real shit hand in your time here, and there’s nothing anyone can do about that but handle it with grace and by being a good person. And you’ve sure as hell done that.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Anthony can hear the tears in Rossy’s voice even before he pulls back to see the former catcher crying._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“This is my fault,” he confesses. Rossy frowns and looks like he’s about to argue, but Anthony continues before he can. “And Kris’s death. I did something stupid and if I hadn’t, we’d both be fine. I killed my best friend and now I’m killing myself.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Don’t be dumb, you didn’t kill him. You can’t cause a heart attack.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“And if the heart attack was caused by a flower?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Rossy goes very still. “Hanahaki?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Anthony nods._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“You and Kris?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Another nod._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“For each other?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________A nod again, and Anthony feels tears starting._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Fuck, Rizz,” Rossy murmurs. “That doesn’t mean it was your fault, though, it just means that you both should’ve talked to each other earlier.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“He did. He gave me a letter. He told me to open it at the beginning of the season but I forgot about it and I only opened it after he died and by then it was too late but if I’d just done it earlier neither of us would have to die but now he’s gone and—and it’s all my—my fault that he’s dead,” Anthony says, sobbing by the end._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“It was a mistake. It’s not your fault. Hanahaki’s a shit disease anyways. And you’re paying way too much for a simple mistake, kid. You both deserve better than this.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Anthony wipes at his eyes, sniffling. “Can we just…not talk about it?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Of course, Rizz.” Rossy caves immediately, hugging him again and ruffling his hair. And for a little bit, just hanging out with an old friend, he can forget for a few minutes everything falling apart around him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Anthony.” Dr. Adams greets him with a weak approximation of a smile when Anthony shows up at his appointment with the team doctor. He hadn’t wanted to get out of bed that morning, let alone come in early to see the doctor before dealing with the stress of today’s game and the tribute ceremony he knows there’s going to be for Kris._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“What does this mean for me?” Anthony sits on one of the tables, idly rubbing at his chest. He knows his words sound callous, like Kris’s death means nothing to him except for the impact it has on his own health, but he’s tired. He’d thought he would have more time with Kris. He’d thought he would have time to speak with Kris about this and to not die._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Dr. Adams hesitates, and Anthony knows he’s not going to like the answer. He’d done his own Googling, of course, and when the person someone has hanahaki for dies, there’s nothing else to be done for it. Aside from surgery, which is Anthony knows already isn’t an option for him at this point._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Is the timeline the same, or am I going to die faster?” Anthony asks bluntly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Dr. Adams visibly blanches, and Anthony braces himself for the worst possible news. He’s had experience with this type of news before, of course, and Dr. Adams hasn’t had to deal with this branch of medicine much. He’s only dealing with it now since Anthony had pushed to keep his illness as private as possible, and watching the doctor now, he regrets making him have to deal with it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“About the same, I’d say. But now, with Kris…gone, there’s no chance he can return your affectations and cause the plant to dissolve.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I figured,” Anthony says levelly. “So mid-October, you think?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I…yes, probably. And I think you’ll probably be able to keep playing until playoffs start. Maybe through the first round if you’re lucky, but I wouldn’t bet on it. It depends on how long those meds keep working. I’d like to do another scan next week, see how much it’s grown in the past month.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Okay,” Anthony agrees. “Thank you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He hops off the table, making to head to the locker room and face the day. Dr. Adams watches him go, but bids Anthony stop when he’s almost to the door._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I just wanted to say I’m sorry about Bryant. You’re welcome to come and speak with me at any point, whether it’s related to your illness or anything else.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Thanks,” Anthony says again, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat. He can’t say anything more, not with the grief and petals choking him, so he just nods again and hurries to leave before Dr. Adams can say anything more._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Will you drive me home?” Anthony asks Jon after the first game of the NLCS. They’ve won, and Jon thinks they have a good shot at taking the next game, with Kyle pitching, and Jon should be happy, but Anthony’s words strike a cold note into Jon’s heart._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“You…” Jon says, not daring to ask anything more. He’s too afraid he already knows the answer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I think so.” Anthony coughs, a handful of bloody petals appearing in his elbow. “The last scans were bad, and anyways this is when the doctor thought it would be.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I’ll text David,” Jon says, taking Anthony’s arm to lead him to his car. Anthony doesn’t need the support, not really, but Jon wants to cherish every too short moment left with the kid. “He’ll want to be there.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Rossy had barely left Chicago since Jon had told him about Anthony’s diagnosis, and Jon knows there’s nowhere David would be but by Anthony’s side at this point._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Thanks,” Anthony murmurs, coughing again. His entire body shakes with the force of them, too thin shoulders trembling while he tries to get his breathing under control again. Jon squeezes his arm, wishing like hell he could do something to ease the suffering of the man he’s come to love like a brother._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Let’s go home,” Jon says. Anthony just nods, seemingly not trusting himself to speak._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Rossy greets them just outside Anthony’s apartment, pulling Anthony into a hug as soon as Jon gets out of the elevator with Anthony._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I’m sorry, kid,” Jon can hear Rossy murmuring to Anthony. Anthony’s response is a series of deep, hacking coughs, bringing up a large clump of flower petals stained with blood and leaving him struggling to catch his breath._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Come on,” Jon says, unlocking the door and ushering them in quickly. Rossy guides Anthony to the couch and rubs his shoulders as he gasps for breath through the vines strangling him from the inside._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I’m sorry,” Anthony whispers when he finally regains his breath. “You guys shouldn’t have to see this.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Rizz, believe me when I say nothing could take me away from you right now,” Rossy says, putting a hand on top of Anthony’s and squeezing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Likewise,” Jon chimes in, taking a seat on the couch on Anthony’s other side and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Sucking in a breath to respond, Anthony dissolves again into a round of coughing. This time, it feels like hours until he takes a deep breath again, and Jon can feel him trembling even when his breathing is even._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“You guys…you guys know I love you, right?” Anthony asks, blood flecking his lips. Rossy passes him a tissue to clear away the bloody petals and the blood, while Jon hugs his too-skinny frame._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“We know. And we love you too,” Jon assures him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“You’ll tell—” Anthony breaks off, pressing a hand to his chest and breathing shallowly. “You’ll tell the team I love them too?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Of course,” Rossy says, trying to surreptitiously rub at his eye. Jon’s known him long enough by now to tell that the catcher’s only barely holding himself together, and that it’s only for Anthony’s sake._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“It’s okay,” Anthony whispers to Rossy in between coughs. “I’ll be with Kris again.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The words are like a lance through Jon’s heart, and Rossy can’t hold back his tears any longer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I’d rather have you both still with us, kid,” he whispers brokenly, wrapping his arms around Anthony and burying his face in Anthony’s shoulder._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Anthony smiles weakly at that, the relative darkness of his lips stark against the absolute paleness of his face. “Me too. But—”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He starts coughing again when he tries to take in a breath, and this time there’s panic in his dark eyes, which seek desperately for Jon. Jon holds him tightly and tries to will his strength into Anthony’s fading body, but even while Anthony still gasps for breath he knows it’ll do no good._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Anthony’s not had nearly enough time to leave his mark on the world, but he’ll be forced from it too soon._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I love you,” Rossy whispers, and Jon echoes his words. Anthony can’t speak through the coughs wracking his body and slowly turning his lips blue, but Jon can read in his eyes the same sentiment. And even as the light slowly fades from them, Jon can still see the love shining through from him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Jon hasn’t spoken, not since those few words in the clubhouse yesterday. They’d all sat in silence for God knows how long, and then he’d gone home and silently hugged his family. He hadn’t been able to muster up the energy to speak even if he’d wanted to, and Farrah, bless her, had seemed to understand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________But now he has to go to the field and get ready for a game—and thank God he isn’t starting, because there’s no way he could manage to throw a damn strike now—and he’ll have to talk. Have to try to rally the team back from this kind of loss. Because failure’s not an option. They have to win. For Anthony, and even for Kris. It won’t make it worth it, won’t make it hurt less, but they have to win._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Wrigley itself feels wrong, the moment he steps foot in the ancient park. She’s seen more players who have died than Jon will ever know, but it almost feels like the very building is mourning the loss of one of her sons._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He detours out of his way, prolonging the walk to the locker room because he doesn’t want to be there. Doesn’t want to have to face his team yet. So he just lets his feet carry him down paths he rarely travels, past Joe’s darkened office, past Theo’s. The door’s open and he can hear what sound like muffled sobs, but he doesn’t stop. Theo probably wants his privacy, and anyways Jon has no comfort to give. It’d probably just turn into both of them crying._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He passes Hoyer, speedwalking towards Theo’s office. He barely seems to notice Jon as the pitcher steps out of his way, worry clearly etched into every line of his face, and Jon hopes he can give Theo whatever it is they’re all looking for. Maybe Theo’ll retire, hand the reins over to Hoyer. Jon feels like he probably would, in Theo’s place._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He passes Kyle and Willy, walking with the pitching coach. Willy has his game face on but Jon can see the utter devastation beneath it, and he wonders if the kid’s going to be able to keep his head in the game at all. He wouldn’t blame him if he couldn’t._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________And fuck, this is the second time Kyle’ll have to start a game the day after a teammate died. Some small, selfish part of Jon is grateful for that, grateful it’s not him. Kyle had somehow kept it together and pitched after the tribute ceremony to Kris, and if anyone can do it after today’s tribute to Anthony, Jon knows it’s Kyle. Hopes so, anyways._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________But if Kyle can go out there and pitch, Jon can go into the locker room and see the rest of his team._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The room’s as silent as it had been right after Jon’s announcement yesterday, but this time it hits Jon even harder. Anthony’s locker has been covered in the same black cloth as Kris’s had, and the two shrouded lockers side by side stop Jon in his tracks. Fuck. They’re both really gone, and the team still has to go out and try to play baseball with a gaping hole in the middle of their hearts._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________\---_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Jon stares down at the tombstone in front of him, resisting the urge to trace the letters on the stone. He knows what they say. He knows they’ll never say enough, never mean enough to encompass the person whose ashes now lie below them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“We won it for you, Rizz,” he says, squeezing the baseball in his left hand. “You and Kris. And the whole team decided you should have the Series-winning ball. They gave it to me to give back to you, but I think I’m going to burn it and throw its ashes in Lake Michigan. Then it’ll be with you and Kris forever.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________There’s no answer, of course. He’ll never get to hear Anthony making fun of him again, or get a bear hug when he claims he’s fine but really needs one._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I’m glad I had as long as I did with you,” he says, voice shaking now. He’d said all this already to Anthony, when he could actually be heard, but he needs to say it again. “None of us are ever gonna forget you. There’s talk of retiring Kris’s and your numbers in Chicago. Not that anyone could forget you anyways, but the two of you... you brought a hell of a lot to this team. It’ll never be the same without you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Jon squeezes the baseball again, gently bouncing it off the top of the tombstone once._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Love you, kid,” he mutters. Anthony can’t respond, but Jon knows what his response would’ve been. The kid’s heart had always been too damn big for his own good._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you enjoyed!


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